


Hotel Oasis

by sapphiczule



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Alternative Timeline, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/F, No Cancer, No heists, Vis a Vis: El oasis, only zurena having a peaceful vacation, well... might not be that peaceful
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:08:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27480967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphiczule/pseuds/sapphiczule
Summary: "It all started with four little words: We need a vacation."ORAn alternative El Oasis timeline post episode 7. Zulema and Macarena decide to take a quick break from the heist life, and Hotel Oasis is the perfect place for a getaway weekend. Almost too perfect to be true.
Relationships: Macarena Ferreiro/Zulema Zahir, Zulema Zahir/Macarena Ferreiro
Comments: 32
Kudos: 117





	1. The Mirage

**Author's Note:**

> In this timeline, Zulema doesn't have cancer and things are set post episode 7 of el oasis. No Maca wanting to leave, no diamond heist, no mexican drug cartel. 
> 
> Just heist wives being heist wives.
> 
> Enjoy :)

“We need a vacation.”

It all started with these four little words. Macarena and Zulema have been doing the crime life for more than a year nonstop, and even though stealing jewelry stores and casinos is not considered as a formal job by societal norms, it sure as hell was just as exhausting as the weekly 9 to 5. All the running, smuggling stolen items, aim practice and lookouts for at least 2 weeks after every heist – meaning a shitty sleeping schedule for both of them for well over 15 days – was wearing them both out, and that’s when Macarena decided that they should go and take a break. Zulema agreed without many questions; she knew they both needed that. They had enough money not to worry about running out as they took some time off from the crime life.

However, Macarena had other plans in mind. Sure, just taking a break and laying low for a time was already good enough, but she really wanted to feel like they were taking some time off to truly relax. And then it came to her.

A weekend getaway.

Of course, Zulema was hesitant at first. Not that she didn’t like the idea of relaxing somewhere away from the caravan life, but it all felt way too… domestic of them. Again, not that she didn’t like the idea of it. In fact, it was exactly because she did. She didn’t voice it, though, like always. When Macarena questioned her about _why couldn’t they just enjoy life for a couple days_ Zulema just kept on saying she thought it would expose them unnecessary. After some minutes of Macarena relentlessly trying to convince her – something that made Zule fairly surprised, given Macarena’s past behavior to them acting even remotely like a couple – she compromised with her pride and said that she would go if the blonde managed to find them a place where they could rest assured that they wouldn’t be recognized. After a couple of days searching, Macarena found the perfect one.

Hotel Oasis.

Located in the middle of the Almeria Desert, the hotel was known for being one of the best (and only) hotels inside the desert. The entire place felt like it was a literal oasis; horizontal rooms with really nice wooden-made décor, palm trees and plants scattered all around the establishment and an incredible poolside with the perfect desert view, and more importantly, miles away from any city around it. And the best thing is that since it was a seasonal hotel it was more than assured that, being the middle of May, they would most definitely have the place to themselves. It almost felt too good to be true.

A few calls to the hotel later, Tatiana Ramirez and Anita Gonzalez, also known by your local police force as Zulema Zahir and Macarena Ferreiro had their reservation made and a peaceful and relaxing weekend ahead of them.

Although… peaceful and relaxing might not be the best words for it.

* * *

“ _Hola chicas! Bienvenidos al Oasis_.” The lady behind the counter greeted Zulema and Macarena as soon as they crossed the entrance way, a sympathetic smile on her face. Zulema made her way to the counter, dropping her bag on the ground while Macarena stood right next to her.

“So, Anita? Or are you Tatiana?”

Zulema smiles, although it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Anita. She’s Tatiana.” The brunette says pointing at Maca, who gives the woman a tight smile. “And you are Ama, right? I believe it was you whom I spoke to on the phone.”

The older woman behind the counter nods affirmingly.

“That’s correct. This hotel is my baby… and you guys are more than welcome to enjoy it for the time of your stay.”

Ama diverts her gaze to the table behind the counter, grabbing two sheets of paper and two pens and putting it on the surface of the marble top.

“I just need you two to fill in this quick form, your IDs and the credit card in which you’ll be paying, please.”

Zulema eyes Macarena quickly, who nods it in a micro expression to her partner-in-crime as she opens up her backpack and takes out two fake IDs with their new alias for the weekend, along with a bulky pack of money.

“We’ll be paying in cash. This should cover the 3 night-stay, by the end of it we’ll sort it out all other expenses.” Macarena says to Ama, while she hands it over the money. The older woman doesn’t seem to be bothered by the peculiarity of having that much money in cash and the no use of credit cards, and instead promptly smiled while she started counting the money bills. Zulema and Maca were more than relieved.

They both filled out their respective forms with all of their fake data, and after the bureaucracies were handled with, Ama made her way to the wall of keys.

“So, is the room going to be two double beds or a king size one?”

Immediately, both Macarena and Zulema’s bodies tensed up. They agreed on sharing a room because _it was safer for them not to sleep separately_ , but they knew this wasn’t entirely all true. They just couldn’t admit to themselves the real reason why.

However, they completely forgot that they would have to solve the bed situation. Well, chose to forget, better put. It was one thing to share a bed with each other when there’s no choice but to do it, the living conditions of the van life not allowing them to afford such luxuries as two beds. They used to take turns sleeping in the beginning of their partnership, even when there wasn’t the imminent danger post-heist. Until one night, they were both just too exhausted to keep this up. Macarena laid down next to Zulema, and just like that, they fell asleep. It has been like that ever since.

But deliberately choosing to fall asleep next to each other amongst other options was another thing completely.

Maca and Zulema held their gaze put, both in the crossroad of what to do. It was excruciatingly silent.

“Two Doubles.” Macarena finally answers, breaking the tense silence between the three of them. Zulema nodded to second the blonde’s words, an emotion flashing through her eyes in which mirrored in the blonde’s ones as well. Relief and disappointment.

Ama nodded with her head, clearly noticing the tense atmosphere between the two women, but not saying anything about it. She picks up the key to room 11, putting it on the counter to the couple.

A _re they a couple, though?_

Zulema picks up the key, eyeing the wall of where it came from and noticing only two empty slots, theirs and another one. Ama seems to notice the brunette’s curious gaze.

“There’s only another family in here besides you two. We don’t get too many costumers off-season, so you guys basically have the house to yourselves. The other guests just went out to do an excursion around the desert, but I’m sure you’ll run into each other later.”

Macarena and Zulema smiled, grabbing their bags and making their way out of the reception and to their room.

“If you guys need anything, my son Cepo is always around. He helps me to take care of the hotel and take care of our guest as well.”

“Great. Thank you Ama.” Macarena said, and soon after, they were making their way to room 11. Zulema shuts the door behind them, dropping her things in the bed closest to it while Macarena made her way to the second bed. Zulema takes out a cigarette from the pocket of her pants, lighting it and releasing a puff of smoke in the air, shrugging.

“You know what, this idea of a weekend trip was actually genius. I’m gonna be able to finally sleep well again without the little squirrel noises you make all night in my ear.”

Macarena opens her mouth in a shocked expression.

“I don’t do that!”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Oh, so you watch me while I sleep?” Macarena answers, giving back the initial tease.

“Yes. I keep thinking that if I suffocate you with a pillow maybe the noise will stop.” 

Macarena chuckles, giving the other woman an eyeroll.

“Then I’m glad we each have a bed to ourselves.” The blonde said, knowing it that the first part wasn’t all entirely true.

Ever since that NYE in the caravan where they crossed the red line of their relationship, things haven’t been quite the simplest between them. The first time they did more than just sleep together on the same bed, both blamed it on the ecstasy and the over rush of adrenaline from being attacked and killing the guys coursing through their veins, and they were not entirely wrong. It was the ending of an old year and a beginning of a new one, emotions were flowered and Zulema promised on the morning after that it would be the first and the last time they would do this.

And on the second time, she said that too. And in the third one as well. At some point, both started running out of excuses and the hookups started to become too deliberate to blame it on impulse or on being intoxicated by whatever, so they just stopped talking about it altogether.

At the end of the day, they were heist partners that so happened to live in a van together, having no one else in life besides each other. It gets difficult for that not to become something more. An enemy morphed into a friend, a convenient van morphed into a home and a strict business relationship morphed into something they still yet fail to name it. From the outside, one could say they fall down the category of what society would call girlfriends, border lining a married couple, but then again there is nothing of the ordinary when it comes to the duo. And when it came to discussing feelings, things would get even messier. 

Everything was going surprisingly well, in the lines of what is good for their terms. They were both happy because of each other, but of course that was something they would never admit out loud. They would fuck, but they wouldn’t kiss; sleep in the same bed but wouldn’t admit it that they liked it, and they would never talk a word about any of this.

As if doing all those things would make them feel like they were in control of something that they very clearly weren’t.

So, yeah, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that the two would feign being happy to the choice of not sleeping together. In fact, it would be strange if they did, for once, actually admitted what they were feeling. They were perfectly fine believing in the mirage, and not questioning what’s behind it.

Zulema finishes roaming around the room and looking at the space they had for the weekend, stopping at the window and opening up the curtain to welcome inside an aggressive ray of sun.

“We should go to the pool, it’s way too hot today.” Zulema said, opening her bag and looking for a change of clothes. Macarena thought for a second and couldn’t see why not. They were here to enjoy their break anyway.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

* * *

It really was way too hot today, as Macarena would have come to realize as she sits in the sunbed in front of the pool, strawberry mojito in hand and Zulema by her side doing the same. The heat the blonde was feeling, however, wasn’t only entirely because of the sun.

Macarena glances quickly to the side to eye the other woman for the nth time since they sat down by the poolside; Zulema’s face washed of any makeup, hair loose cascading down her shoulders and her swimming attire. Well… she’s not sure if what the older woman is wearing even categorizes as a swimming attire if she’s being honest. It consisted of a black bikini bottom and an also black oversized see-through slayer shirt, the fabric thin enough so you can make out most of what’s laying underneath, but not giving it all entirely. But from what Maca _could_ see, Zulema was topless underneath it.

And she hasn’t been able to take her mind off of that ever since. When it came to being naked, Zulema and Macarena had two very different stands on it. Maca had no problem in showing skin, not even in prison as she came to discover. She was uncomfortable at first in the showers, yes, but later came to find that there were much more stressful things in life than to worry about your parts hanging out in the wind. The faces around her grew familiar, and with it, her inhibition to being naked diminished until it simply wasn’t there anymore. Nudity was indeed something she grew up hearing that it was natural, and the belief remains, even in extreme conditions as the blonde came to discover.

Zulema took showers in prison, most of the time, in different hours of the day than most prisoners. When they would happen to shower at the same time, Macarena would almost feel scared to look at the scorpion for too long, afraid that she might attack. Clothes were Zulema’s armor, as if exposing her body was also exposing her weakness, humanizing the elf from hell that everyone oh-so feared. She would rather be feared than to be seen as someone vulnerable. Macarena would steal curious glances, that back then she would have never admitted that it had a hint of desire in it. Zulema would steal glances back.

When they had sex, Zulema was always wearing something on her, never fully naked. Macarena would touch her from underneath the fabric, from her chest to where Zulema always needed her the most. It was almost as if Zulema kept trying to make their sex as impersonal as fucking someone’s brains out can be. Clothes give her safety. Maca couldn’t wrap her head around what she was trying to protect herself of. Maybe she didn’t want to.

The most skin the blonde was used to seeing in the raven-haired woman was her arms and, if it was hot enough, her legs. On the really hot days on their caravan, or in their prison days, Zulema would have on a tank top that hugs her body in a perfect way – not too tight to the figure but just enough, with her cleavage on display. Macarena would always try and refrain from staring. She would always miserably fail just like she’s failing at it right now, her eyes going back and forth to Zulema. She swallows hard, taking a long sip of her drink.

It was a beautiful day, and it was a beautiful place to be in a sunny afternoon. The desert made for a breathtaking landscape all around them, while the only sound engulfing them was of the wind and the subtle sounds the water from the pool would make when it hit the borders of it. They really did have the entire hotel to themselves seeing that the only other guests were out, not a single soul in sight except them two. It was all peacefully quiet, with the exception of Maca’s extremely loud thoughts. Zulema apparently notices it, too.

“ _Qué?_ ” The brunette asks, finally doing the opposite move and being the one to look at Macarena now. The blonde takes another long sip of her drink, finishing the glass’ content and giving herself some time to think of an answer. She puts the empty glass on the table between them, looking back at Zulema and shrugging.

“ _Qué?_ ” The blonde shoots the question back, as if she didn’t know exactly what that was about. “You’re looking at me way too much. I might just charge you for it.” Zulema says, jokingly cocking her eyebrow to which Macarena rolls her eyes. “ _Venga._ What’s on your mind?”

“Why not a bikini?” She finally asks, addressing what’s on her mind indirectly. Not that she’s complaining about Zulema’s choice of an outfit, though – and by the look in the brunette’s eyes, Zulema knows that the question is motivated by something else altogether. She shrugs. “Not a fan of them.”

After more than 10 years of knowing someone, you start to learn their telling to different situations. Zulema, for instance, knows that whenever Macarena stretches her neck and tenses up her jaw, she’s clearly annoyed by someone; when her brows knit together and her lips are pressed into a line, she knows Macarena is focused on something serious. And when she looks at someone with eyes low, her gaze filled with intensity and her lips halfway parted with her tongue slightly out touching her upper lip, exactly the way she’s looking at Zulema right now, it means that Macarena is craving the person she’s looking at.

Zulema can almost hear the blonde’s mind wandering ever since they laid down on these sunbeds, Macarena’s stolen looks as discreet as an elephant and the eventual lip bite whenever she would remember herself do avert her gaze away from Zulema’s sheerly-covered body not going unnoticed. The brunette holds back a smirk.

“By the look in your face, I take that the question wasn’t really a complaint, no?”

Maca swallows hard, feeling the familiar tug in her lower stomach whenever Zulema’s voice would drop an octave and her eyes would glow a different shade of green. She knows Zulema’s teasing her. _Two can play this game…_

“Maybe.” is all Macarena answers. She takes out her yellow aviator shades and leaves them on her seat, getting up and slowly making her way to the outdoor shower as she pulls her hair in a bun, her back facing Zulema as the older woman watches her go. The way Macarena’s hips swing with every step, how her toned arms move around while she pulls her hair up and how her back muscles stretch with every movement. Zulema sighs, closing her eyes and releasing a dark chuckle.

_Puta rubia..._

Macarena finally arrives in the shower on the other side of the pool, turning it on while she lets the water run down her front, cascading down her chest and stomach and down to her legs and into the ground. The beaming 2PM sun is shining bright, making Maca’s body glow as the sun rays reflected on the drops of water. Zulema’s eyes go down on the blonde’s body, taking in the sight.

Macarena knows she has Zulema’s attention locked on her from the minute that she got up from that chair. She made sure of it. Finally, she brings her eyes to Zulema’s direction again, and smirks knowing that she turned the game around as Zulema bites her lips and shakes her head, as if trying to ground her thoughts again. The blonde turns the register off and stops the water cascade coming from the shower head above her.

“What are you going to do about it?” Macarena asks, still standing on the same place. Zulema arches her brow, taking the bait and standing up from her place as well.

She makes her way towards Macarena, who is doing the same thing until they stop on their steps, meeting each other halfway, standing in front of the pool. Zulema’s eyes go down from Maca’s eyes to her lips and then to her body, taking in the sight of her curves and the way the drops of water slide down her body in a perfect way... Her eyes come back to meet the blonde’s gaze, their proximity enough so their bodies are almost brushing against each other. Zulema leans in, their noses almost touching, and Macarena’s breath gets caught in her throat by the unexpected move. Her eyes drop to the mouth just inches away from hers now and watches it as it slowly moves when Zulema starts speaking again.

“I think you’re way too hot and bothered…” Macarena’s eyes come back to Zulema’s at that sentence. They hold their heavy gaze on each other, Macarena’s shivering anticipation from not knowing what’s to come making everything much more fun for the raven-haired woman.

“I’m going to help you cool down.”

Before Macarena has the time to process the words just said, Zulema pushes her to the side making the blonde fall down the cold water of the pool with a gasp, while Zulema chuckles satisfied.

“I didn’t want to get my hair wet Zulema! _Hija de puta._ ” Macarena answers as soon as she emerges from the surface again feigning annoyance, but she little smirk on her lips gives her away immediately. The blonde unties her now soaking wet hair while Zulema takes the chance to dive inside the water herself, getting back to the surface and closer to the blonde, face inches away from each other once more.

“Yeah, and you like it.” Zulema says smugly.

Maca’s eyes drop to the see-through shirt that started it all in the first place, now soaking wet and clinging to Zulema’s breasts enough so it doesn’t leave much to the imagination anymore. She grabs a fistful of the fabric, watching Zulema’s reaction to it as she tugs her closer to herself until their bodies mingle together on the water. The blonde leans in, but averts her face to the side, going to the brunette’s ear instead. She bites her lobe, enough so Zulema lets out a muffled sigh.

“I guess I have a thing for _las chicas malas_.” She whispers. Her kisses start going down Zulema’s neck, slowly making its way to her jaw. Zulema tenses up, feeling her body react to the way the blonde’s warm tongue feels against her skin at the same time Macarena’s smell invades her senses. She closes her eyes, letting herself get lost into it for a minute.

“ _Chicas_ that don’t care about rules... and wouldn’t mind breaking a law or two.” She separates her lips from where they are now on Zulema’s jaw, looking at the older woman in the eye again.

“Is a hotel pool considered to be a public place?” She asks with an evil smirk filled with second intentions.

Zulema pouts her lips, squinting her eyes at Macarena. “Since when do you get off from breaking the rules?”

Macarena lifts her brows, shrugging.

“We literally do that for a living. Since when do you care about them?”

It was a challenge. They both knew that. And they both knew how Zulema reacts to being challenged.

She eats them up.

Zulema’s hand comes to find Macarena’s hips as she quickly pulls the blonde even closer to her body and turns them around pressing the younger woman to the side of the pool, Maca releasing a surprised gasp as her back lands with a thud against the concrete.

“You’re right. I don’t.”

Zulema starts traveling her hands that were resting in the blonde’s hips, going upwards until her fingers are brushing against her ribs and stopping just below Macarena’s breasts.

“What I do care about...” Her fingers teasingly slip underneath Maca’s bikini top, going slowly up but never reaching her nipples. “Is if you can handle getting fucked without being _so loud_.”

Zulema bites her own lip just as she now fully cups Macarena’s breasts, receiving a dragged moan from the woman at the feel of her palms brushing up against her nipples. She smirks, thinking of all the ways she’s going to make it hard for Macarena not to scream her name to the gods. She observes the way Maca’s eyes darken by the minute as her pupils dilate at the slightest move Zulema’s hands make and she’s sure that, if she reaches inside the blonde’s panties, she would already feel her slick wetness mixing up with the water from the pool. But she doesn’t go there just yet.

Instead, she removes her hands from the inside of the younger woman’s bikini top, one of them coming to her face to tilt her chin sideways exposing Macarena’s neck to her as much as possible. She trails the skin there with her tongue, sucking on Macarena’s pulse point and making sure to leave a mark. She kisses it tenderly afterwards, relieving the sting she left, and continues to trace her kisses down the blonde’s neck and into her collarbone.

At the same time, Zulema’s other hand find the skin of Macarena’s inner thighs, and she starts tracing a feather-like touch upwards where Macarena wants her the most, and the blonde’s legs automatically spread wider for her. Her finger stops halfway on her right thigh, and she removes her mouth from the blonde’s neck to look at her in the eye.

”Zulema… The other guests can come back at any minute. We should be quick.” Macarena says in a whisper.

The older woman uses her hand still on Macarena’s jaw to swing her face from one side to the other, nodding on the negative.

“Tsc. Tsc. Tranquilla. What’s the fun of committing a crime if you’re not risking getting caught? I’m not in a rush. Are you?” She asks, redundantly.

She knows the simple thought of getting caught is enough to make Macarena’s legs tremble, and she’s definitely not about to stop what’s happening between them right now.

The answer comes more in a form of a moan than of actual words, as Macarena whimpers closing her eyes for a moment.

“No...”

“That’s what I thought.”

Maca knows how this game with Zulema works. She takes as much time as she wants teasing and stroking and just not giving her _enough_ , and to each attempt on her side to rush things up the touches would only get slower. Lighter. Barely there. Until she slowly lost her mind and turned to nothing but a horny mess. She knows she’s in for a ride.

“Now... let’s try this again.” Zulema says, bringing her hand again all the way down to Macarena’s inner thigh, and making her way up once more, a bit slower this time. Macarena’s legs stay put, and she complies.

“ _Joder..._ ” Macarena whispers, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

Zulema takes her time, but eventually, her hand reaches Macarena’s center. With her middle and ring finger, she positions them just on top of the blonde’s covered center, and gives it a light stroke up and down, caressing it and not nearly with the enough pressure Macarena needs. She whimpers. Zulema smirks satisfied.

Her other hand finally lets go of the blonde’s face, coming now downwards and finding its spot again on Maca’s left breast underneath her bikini. She continues with her up and down movement between the blonde’s legs, her other hand mirroring its moves on Macarena’s nipple.

Zulema squeezes and caresses and rounds Macarena’s breast and both her hands are slowly but surely making Macarena’s slowly lose her mind. When the brunette finally ups the pressure on her fingers rubbing against Maca´s clothed clit, the blonde releases the first of many fully pledged moans that’s yet to come.

“Fuck, Zulema...”

Zulema removes her fingers from the blonde’s center, but before Macarena even has the chance to argue, she feels the brunette grabbing onto the top of her bikini bottom, pulling it up with just enough strength so that Maca’s clit is pressed against the fabric in the most _fucking amazing_ way. Zulema’s eyes never leave Macarena’s face, wanting to drink up every single display of pleasure the woman is showing right now. It was definitely one of her favorite views.

“Y-yes...”

Zulema’s reply comes in another pull of the fabric, and once again Maca’s throbbing clit receives attention both with the pressure and the friction the movement provides her. Macarena can’t help but roll her hips involuntary to desperately feel more. She widens up her eyes, knowing this would probably cause Zulema to stop. _Fuck._

“Zule... _no pares por favor.”_ The blonde pleads with hazy eyes at the brunette 

To her surprise, Zulema complies.

“ _Vale...”_ She pulls the panties again. Macarena moans, rolling her eyes. “Just because I love it when you lose control.”

In all honesty, Zulema is also equally eager to properly touch Macarena and make her melt in her fingers, and she doesn’t know if she can keep up this game for longer. In normal situations she most definitely would, but the excitement and danger of fucking the blonde in a public place is stronger than her will and speaks louder on the process of deciding if she should already give Macarena what they both want.

She gives in to the blonde. She realizes she’s been doing a lot of that lately.

“Wrap your legs around me.” Zulema says in a deep voice, taken over by her lust. Macarena complies in a heartbeat, wrapping her legs around the older woman’s waist and holding onto her neck. Zulema brings one hand to hold the blonde’s waist, while the other one slipped in between their bodies and finally found its place inside Maca’s underwear. When Zulema’s middle finger finally comes into contact with the blonde’s clit, Macarena throws her head back letting out a dragged moan at the feeling, to which Zulema has to bite her own lip not to moan as well. She slips her finger all the way down Maca’s slit and back up, feeling the slickness that is still present there even with the water from the pool trying to wash it away. Feeling how wet and ready Macarena gets from her touch is always something bound to make her own center throb.

Taking advantage of Macarena’s exposed neck, Zulema dives in with her mouth as she starts to nibble and kiss and lick all the skin she could reach, while her middle and index finger kept drawing circles on Macarena’s center and increasing its speed and pressure gradually. All the sounds you could hear around them was once again of the wind, the water moving (with a lot more strength this time) and the sweet panting sounds Macarena was letting out as she tried not to moan, coupled with Zulema’s heavy breathing.

The blonde releases one of her hands from Zulema’s neck as she starts roaming her hands around the older woman’s figure. Her fingers went down her collarbone and into her chest, resting the palm of her hand flat on one of them making Zulema stop her kisses on Maca’s neck and bring her eyes back to dark lusted honey ones as she releases a deep breath. The blonde’s hands keep making their way down and underneath the sheer layer of the soaking shirt, bringing her fingers back to their previous place again. Holding their eye contact, Macarena starts circling Zulema’s nipple with her hands, faster and with more pressure until she finally grips her breast entirely, giving it a squeeze and making Zulema let out a muffled moan. The movement was promptly reciprocated by Zulema’s hands in between the blonde’s legs, as she pressed her fingers hard against Maca’s now swollen clit making Macarena bite her lip to control her volume.

“ _F-uck_ …” Was all she managed to mutter in between gritted teeth. Macarena brings back her eyes from the back of her head and into Zulema’s face, and the hungry expression on the brunette like she wanted to completely devour her makes her entire body shiver. Macarena loves seeing the feral look Zulema gets once she touches her and the pleasure of fucking Maca mixes up with her own as she feels the blonde touch her, and she wants more. Macarena keeps moving her hands, giving the other breast the same treatment as she finally goes down her ribs, stomach, and stops at the hem of Zulema’s bikini bottom.

When she was about to slip her fingers inside the underwear, Zulema’s hand on her waist squeezed and she looked at the blonde in the eye.

“Not now. Later.” Is all she says, her fingers still moving deliciously tight circles around Macarena’s pussy and she’s too close to the edge to protest the older woman on this. As much as she wanted to touch her, she knows she has no strength in her right now to fight against her. Macarena brings her hand back up, finding its place once again on Zulema’s breasts as the hand on the brunette’s neck was now digging its nails onto the skin there. It stung, and Zulema loved it. She continues to work up Macarena as much as she can, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. She can feel by the way her nails dig tighter, her hand on her chest gets heavier and the legs around her waist start to close around her that the blonde is incredibly close.

“Zule… I—”

Anticipating her words, Zulema finally slides two digits inside Macarena’s cunt, curling them perfectly against the blonde’s best spot while the palm of her hand presses tight against Maca’s clit, and with a few deep curls and the friction, Macarena’s vision gets blurry until it’s all black. Zule’s other hand instantly comes to cover the blonde’s mouth, so the owners of the hotel wouldn’t know Macarena Ferreiro is cumming all over Zulema’s fingers on their pool.

Maca’s eyes are closed shut, and her entire body tenses up as her mouth falls open but there’s yet no sound to come off. When the waves of her orgasm finally crash on her, her hips buckle on Zulema’s hand as she releases a moan that’s instantly muffled by the older woman’s hands on her mouth, and the blonde can’t help but bite against the tender skin of Zulema’s hands while her nails dug impossibly deeper in the skin of the brunette’s shoulders to release the tension her vocal chords can’t.

She rides her aftershock as her hazy mind starts to come back, Zulema’s fingers still inside the blonde waiting for her body to calm down, until she felt it was okay to pull it out, receiving a whimper from Macarena. Zulema takes in the sight in front of her; Maca’s hair now slightly drier clinging around her face, her cheeks flustered from the orgasm as her mouth is agape as she’s trying to catch her breath. She feels Macarena’s hands go up and tangle themselves on her wet hair, and the gentle touch on her scalp almost makes her eyes flutter shut. Macarena’s still composing herself and she can feel the blonde’s legs are weak as they can’t hold her body up on her waist the same way as before, so she promptly brings her hands to hold the younger woman against the wall and hooked on her body as well.

And she can’t help but think of how beautiful Macarena is _._

She knows she shouldn’t be feeling this way. But by each day next to the blonde’s side, the feeling only grows bigger and harder to ignore. She knows she’s in trouble.

Macarena finally fully opens her eyes, looking back at dark green ones that are watching her closely. Maca laughs, the brightest most amazing smile plastered on her face. Zulema’s chest clenches.

“Fuck… We should’ve come here a long time ago.”

Zulema can’t help but cackle a smile at that, rolling her eyes and adverting her gaze from Macarena as the younger woman joins her, erupting into a chuckle again.

“ _Eh_ , sex in the pool is overrated.” Zulema says, shrugging it off and receiving an eyeroll from the blonde, who’s subconsciously still stroking Zulema’s hair.

The brunette, however, can’t stop thinking about it.

 _This is a marriage of convenience,_ Zulema repeats mentally as a mantra. _This is a marriage of convenience._

_Sooner or later, they are bound to end._

On the blonde’s mind, another thought echoes.

_I love it when you lose control._

* * *

Ama makes sure that Zulema and Macarena are still in the pool area and that the other guests are still nowhere to be seen on the property yet before she stretches her hand below the counter and grabs a keychain that holds out two keys. She leaves the reception balcony and makes her way out the back of the property until she reaches a silver gate, hidden away from any common area and easy to blend into the environment, definitely not noticeable enough to draw people’s attention to it for more than 2 seconds.

Ama unlocks the gate, making her way down a dark corridor dimly lit until she finally arrives on a dark, circle-shaped room. The walls were made of dark concrete, and the room consisted of only a single leather chair in the middle of the space, the walls surrounded by windows that apparently gave view to the inside of several room cabins. The elder woman, however, brings her attention elsewhere.

In the corner of the room, there was a chest with a metal lock in it, to which Ama uses the second key to open it up. Inside there’s a briefcase, some papers, amongst other items of clothes that appear to be of menswear. She picks up one file, opening it up exposing a medical sheet with the Cruz del Sur label printed on the top right, a name, and a photo of a blonde with innocent, puppy eyes.

 _Macarena Ferreiro_ , the sheet read.

The woman in the picture looked quite different from the one she saw earlier going by the name of Tatiana, but it was undeniably her. She remembers seeing her name and her face on the news. 

“I found her, _mijo_ …”


	2. Losing My Religion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter makes up for the long wait. 
> 
> Two songs are mentioned at the end of the chapter, so if you would like to listen to them while you read it i’ll leave the links below. 
> 
> (in order)  
> Morena Mía - Girl Ultra https://open.spotify.com/track/0khtbTGV5xIjp0Oi5ataCQ?si=Y2LydY96TGGJLaDcqFE6Ww  
> Damelove - Girl Ultra  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/2ALEhWrcpAdOC7YYJBQIre?si=wjBoIH9cRd2NIdZYl8M4_g
> 
> Enjoy :)

The sound of a car engine getting turned off nearby snaps Zulema and Macarena out of their conjoint haze by the poolside. The duo makes their way out of the common area as to avoid contact with the other guests as much as they can, heading towards the safety of their room away from prying eyes, or so they thought. Macarena made her way to the shower first, while Zulema waited for her turn.

Clothes off, hot water on, Macarena dives into the calming cascade of water, feeling how it slides from her head to the rest of the body and washes away all her tension. She leans in with her forearms against the wall closest to the shower head, exposing her back to the water flow and closing her eyes as she sighs deeply and feels her mind wonder.

Showers have always been for Maca a moment in her day in which she allows herself to relax and unwind, almost like a meditation of its own. There was something about feeling the water flowing from her head down to the ground that gave her the feeling that it could also wash away her problems too, down her body and down the drain as the water drops relentlessly fall, constantly renewing itself. She would let her mind wonder to whatever place it wanted to go, letting all her current worries come to the surface so she could then finally let it go as she feels it exuding off her pores and getting washed off her skin.

But there has been one feeling that she hasn’t been able to wash away, for as much as she tried, in every single shower she took. And this feeling had a name.

Zulema.

The raven-haired woman was notoriously known for hunting her thoughts – started out in prison, and it evolved as they evolved. No matter how much Macarena tried, she just couldn’t wash Zulema out of her.

She would turn on the hottest setting the shower could take on and let the scalding bath burn her back when she wanted to try and canalize the anger. She would cry below the shower stream so her tears and the droplets of water would be impossible to discern, to try and get rid of the sadness and heartbreak too. She would adjust the setting on the showerhead to concentrate the waterflow and bring it slowly in between her legs, letting pleasure hit her as the water did until she would come gripping the tiles closest to her as her body spasmed and her juices flowed down along with the constant water jet in a desperate attempt to exorcise the need her body had to be touched by Zulema’s.

But then again, Zulema Zahir is unwashable. She clings to your skin. Macarena ended up learning that the best course of action to get rid of these feelings was to throw them on Zulema’s lap (and on other occasions, throw herself on top of the brunette’s lap too). It was never hard to fight her, scream at her, choke her, or even fuck her after they finally got past that point in their relationship. All these dense feelings and tension was not news to either of them, they both knew that they were the type to explode at some point. You bend a tree far too much; it’s bound to break.

But there’s something new. Macarena knows it and she knows what it is. But she can’t bring it to the surface. She shampoos her hair and scrubs hard, subconsciously trying to get rid of it without having to take it for what it is – the foam and the water go down her body, but the feeling always stays. She massages the conditioner on and closes her eyes, remembering the feeling of massaging thick black strands earlier today. She washes it off, but the memory stays put. Soap comes by the end kissing her skin like someone else does. Her sense memory makes her skin tingle whenever she hits the spot just above her knee where Zulema likes to rest her hand on whenever they’re sitting close from each other. Zulema’s touch was like the sun – it brightened up her body and burned her skin.

And she’s terrified of it.

Back on the room, Zulema found herself by the window looking at the guests who had just arrived through a slit in the otherwise closed curtains. In a distance and unaware of her vigilance, a small family of three entered their room in the far-right side of the corridor, a good enough distance from their room. The kid didn’t appear to be a day older than 16, and definitely a little bit more on the shier side. A lot more. Zulema made a mental note of that. Nothing in the parents looked out of the ordinary, which was always a good thing. But she also knows that appearing to be something does not equal being it. She also put a pin on that. Something keeps telling her that they should be worried right now, and her instincts keep telling her to run. But she’s here to relax, for once in her life. She really wants to try. _Perhaps there’s nothing to worry about,_ she reassured to herself.

“ _Venga._ Your turn.” Macarena sounds from behind, making Zulema turn around to meet the voice and only to get immediately hit with a white towel on the face thrown by the blonde. Zulema rolls her eyes at Macarena’s cheeky grin, holding the towel against her chest.

“I thought you died in there from how long it was taking it from you to come out. Then I remembered whose fault is it that we constantly run out of hot water in the caravan.” Zulema said, her back facing the blonde while she walked away to the bathroom. Macarena chuckled, but it died once she heard the door close, her mind still spiraling with thoughts.

She brushed her hair after gently patting it dry with the towel, throwing in a black tank top along with some whitewash mom jeans. After she was done dressing up, Macarena threw herself in the white sheets of her double bed, enjoying the way her body felt relaxed and giving into the fatigue that it was feeling, its origins a mix from the sun, the sex, and the feeling of finally managing to let her guard as down as it can possibly go.

 _We should really buy a better bed for the van,_ Macarena said to herself nonchalantly, enjoying momentarily the comfort of lying in a bed that doesn’t fold in. As her eyes closed going along with the way her body was relaxing, she let her thoughts wander back again. Or better yet, let her thoughts wander back to where they always go nowadays – Zulema.

You could say that a decade is long enough time to get to know a person. And she knows Zulema. She knows that, even if she’s closed off and feels distant sometimes, she really trusts Maca. They wouldn’t be here if she didn’t. She also knows that Zulema is never one to do things she doesn’t want to – her head is her sole guide. She could feel it in her eyes, every time dark green orbs would look at her whenever they were doing monotonous errands like tidying up the van while music blasted from their bluetooth speakers or fighting at the local grocery store for what brand of beer to buy. That momentary look you give another person, which is mostly for your own self, whenever you realize said someone is the reason of your current happiness. She has gotten to know a side of Zulema that only three more other people in the entirety of Zulema’s life got to see: the hidden facet of the scorpion, the one nearly no one talks about.

In many settings, the scorpion has come to represent death and imminent danger. In approaching a victim, scorpions dance nearly playfully. However, it does not attack with any type of malice, but simply remains true to its nature. It has learned how to survive the harshest of environments, and you don’t learn that by not taking the precaution to sting whenever it feels threatened.

But the truth is that scorpions, ultimately, do not sting without a reason. When it doesn’t feel threatened, they are actually fascinating animals and even great mothers to their hatchlings, protecting them on her back until they’re ready to face the harsh world. In Egypt, amulets are made of them to protect people from evil, and even though it was considered to be an omen, they were respected and feared.

Just like Zulema.

She remembers a specific night in the caravan, both women sitting on the roof enjoying the night breeze after a very hot summer day like they would usually do.

_Macarena takes another swing of her beer, watching as Zulema observed her pet scorpion crawl down her arms, and then lifting it up to reposition its trail down her sweatpant-covered legs._

_“Can I ask you a question?” The blonde asked, testing the waters._

_“You’re gonna ask it anyways, rubi.” Zulema answers, chuckling but not taking her eyes off the small creature on her lap._

_“Why scorpions?”_

_Zulema took a deep breath, grabbing her pet by the tail and bringing it to her hand again. Macarena was sure she was going to get back a short and mindless answer, or maybe not even one at all. She really didn’t expect any other outcome, but she also didn’t mind that. Until Zulema broke the silence._

_“Back in Egypt they’re very feared and respected creatures, you know. It always fascinated me.” Macarena kept looking at the brunette, but Zulema’s eyes were fixed on the animal._

_“It’s a shame that they’re respected for the wrong reasons. Most people think highly of it because it’s such an opposing and dangerous animal, strong and determined. But they’re also very loyal. They never sting without a reason, never. They protect the people they love. They’re extraordinarily complex creatures.”_

_Zulema brings the scorpion back to its box, closing it and resting it on the floor next to her chair. She finally looks back at Macarena, eyes deep with emotions that Macarena couldn’t read entirely, but could perfectly feel what they meant._

_“And complex creatures are always misunderstood.”_

Macarena kicks herself mentally like she always does whenever she remembers herself that she is one of these people. The ones that misjudge and misunderstand. The ones that see the danger first. She knows she has the reasons to – you don’t get over trauma in a day. But fuck, she really wants to... she so desperately wants to allow herself to act on what she feels deep inside her. But her tyrannic moral compass was always the quickest to judge and intervene in the moments most crucial to them. It would tell her own self that this was a marriage of convenience, and that a person that hurt her like the scorpion has in the past will most definitely hurt her again. Survival instinct would kick in, engaging her in a fight or flight state that would always end up with the same outcome: running to the opposite direction of her feelings towards Zulema. She would absolutely hate herself after seeing all these flashes of sadness in the brunette’s eyes in the moments in which the scorpion would show her a slice of affection and she would turn it away.

 _This isn’t a marriage of convenience;_ she tells herself silently.

She imagines herself back on that New Year's Eve, facing Zulema with her polaroid just gifted to her in her hands. Is she asleep and dreaming or just imagining? She can’t tell anymore, but she might be on the edge between both of them, because she’s unconscious enough to admit all of this instead of repressing it all but awake enough so she has the slightest consciousness that it’s happening.

“ _En parte, solo en parte... Juntas nos sentimos menos solas.”_

 _“Juntas.”_ She answers this time. It’s not real, and she knows it. She can’t change what’s been said and done. But she wishes she could. A single word, and it was all it would have taken.

* * *

Macarena slowly opens her eyes, feeling her body waking up as she regains consciousness of her surroundings. As her sight starts focusing, she notices the unfamiliarity of the room, which instantly makes her body jolt awake as her thoughts haven’t caught up with her body yet. After the initial scare does the job to properly wake her up, she relaxes remembering where she is.

_Did I fell asleep? What time is it?_

She looks at the bedside clock flashing 19:30, realizing that she’s been asleep for the past 2 hours. Well, passed out might be the best description for it, since she doesn’t recall the last time she and Zulema had managed to sleep this deep.

_Zulema. Where is Zulema?_

Uneasiness starts setting once again as she realizes her partner in crime is nowhere to be seen. Macarena brings her body out of the bed, grabbing her flannel shirt to protect her against the chilly wind and making her way out of their room and almost instantly spotting raven hair and a puff of smoke in the benches nearby. She relaxes once again, making her way to Zulema who appears to be completely focused on the book she has on hand, which Maca can tell by the way the older woman chews on her lower lip and her brows knit together.

“Hey.” Macarena says standing closer to the bench Zulema is sitting, finally bringing the brunette’s attention to herself.

“Good morning.”

Macarena chuckles at the snarky comment, entering Zulema’s personal space as she grabs the cigarette from the brunette’s hands, taking a drag and giving it back.

“It’s your fault my body was so tired. I deserved a nap.”

Zulema throws the blonde a smug grin, closing her book and getting up from her seat to tease the blonde who’s already rolling her eyes.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You said it, not me.” Zulema says, shrugging and throwing a pout.

“ _Pues venga_ , I’m starving right now. Wanna go have dinner by the hotel restaurant?”

“I’m okay. I’m just going to read a bit more and then look for something to eat.”

Macarena quickly snatches the book from the scorpion’s hand before she had a chance to settle down back again on her seat. Zulema is about to protest when Macarena speaks up.

“C’mon! We came here together. Let’s eat together.”

Zulema takes a deep breath, biting the inside of her cheek. Macarena knows that this means she’s not going to fight her, so she pushes just a little bit more.

“Please?” She asks with a side smile.

“Lead the way, rubia.”

Zulema left her book on their room and both women went to find the hotel’s restaurant. As they walked by, Zulema and Maca started realizing that the hotel was bigger than it seems at first glance – like it hides its secrets from bystanders. Several apparently dead ends would lead to open leisure areas, with cozy-looking white sofas, external heating for the occasional cold desert nights and a front seat view of the clear sky that shines countless stars. But there were also closed doors and gates that appeared to lead to darker and strange places, almost the opposite of the hidden paradises mentioned before. The place definitely felt off, but that could be just the standard fugitive paranoia.

Their suspicions subsided momentarily once they reached the dining hall, a simple yet elegant inside area with wooden tables and a candle-lit atmosphere combined with an external area with the same decor and surrounded by green. The environment still had that personal, family business vibe to it, managing to look homey but still catering to the thrill of a place to enjoy some time away from the routine. They spotted the other guests sitting on the inside with their foods already served, so they decided to sit on the external area settling on a table facing each other.

 _“Noches. Soy Cepo.”_ A guy says, standing in front of their table moments after the duo set down. He looked shy and reserved, but seemingly kind.

“Hola Cepo.” Zulema answered simply, gazing the man carefully. Something about him seemed oddly familiar, although she couldn’t pinpoint what. The man doesn’t shy away from the the scorpion’s invasive gaze, but he definitely feels uncomfortable by it.

“You’re Ama’s son, right? You work here with her.” Macarena finally breaks the silence that lasted a second too long, her voice sweet and immediately attracting Cepo’s attention.

“ _Si._ I’m in charge of dinner tonight.” He answers, smiling and seemingly hypnotized by Maca, who was indulging him momentarily. Zulema rolls her eyes. _They always fall for blondie’s charms._

 _“_ Great.” Macarena answers smiling, grabbing the menu, and quickly throwing a glance at Zulema, who kept watching the interaction.

“I’ll have the vegan quinoa salad. And my friend will have...” Maca looks at Zulema expectantly, waiting for her to finish the sentence with her dinner pick but the woman just silently holds her gaze with Cepo, almost in a territorial way. One, two, three seconds pass. Zulema finally breaks eye contact, grabbing the small menu sitting on the table.

“Steak. Side of steamed vegetables.” She answers, looking back at him. Cepo nods understandingly, looking back at Macarena for some sorts of confirmation that he’s good to go.  
  
“We’ll take a bottle of red wine too.” Macarena completes. “Merlot. _Gracias Cepo_.”

The man smiles shyly, nodding his head to Macarena and walking away. The blonde looks at Zulema back again, who arches a brow back.

“Don’t give me that look, Zule.”

“What look?” Zulema asks feigning confusion.

“The look you always give me when I play to other people’s charisma. It doesn’t hurt to have people on our good side.”

“Sure.” Zulema agrees, pouting her lips.

“Are you jealous?” She asks, a hint of a smirk on her lips. Zulema rolls her eyes.

“ _Claro que no._ It’s just funny how they always fall for it.” Zulema completes. _Like I fall for it too,_ she thinks. The brunette can’t help but question if she’s just another Cepo. Macarena, noticing the gears in the Zulema’s mind turning to a darker place, speaks up again.

“You look cute when you’re jealous.” Macarena says, teasingly but still with a hint of affection in it. That seems to ease Zulema up, who throws her napkin at Macarena who laughs at it.

“I’m not jealous.” Zulema says with a serious face.

“Mhm. _Sabes que mucho me pone cuando te elfadas..._ ” Macarena throws a wink at Zulema, who bites her lip. She eyes Macarena up and down, chuckling at the blonde’s smirk and holding her gaze as the tension build up. Their eye fucking, however, gets interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

Macarena and Zulema look up, finding Cepo back on their table holding out a bottle of wine. He serves both their glasses silently, leaving the bottle on their table and awkwardly leaving the dense atmosphere both women built once again. Maca lifts up her glass, gesturing for Zulema to do the same.

“To our freedom.” Macarena says, proposing a toast. Zulema clinks their glasses, giving the woman a side smirk and finally bringing the dense red beverage to meet her lips, as the blonde mirrors her moves. The wine tasted amazing, like a good merlot should be – dry and rich in flavor but still a bit velvety and gentle, much like them two.

Their food arrives shortly after they finish their first glass of wine, and they both enjoy the meal that was way more delicious than they anticipated for a hotel restaurant – whoever oversaw the cooking was doing their job very well. They talked about all sorts of subjects during dinner, from childhood memories to prison ones, but all in a light tone. Having personal conversations was not a surprise to either of them, seeing that this past year certainly made them closer than they ever thought they could be. It was amusing for both women to find out more about each other – they certainly already had the habit of doing that in prison – but now the act of doing it had no harmful second intentions. They were shared in an act of trust. And surely trust is a thing they both need to have when sharing a life with each other – and each other was all both of them had.

Two meals and a bottle and a half of wine later, they make their way back to their room while Macarena carried with her the rest of the second bottle of merlot after sweet-talking Cepo into letting her take it, not losing the opportunity to tease Zulema about the perks of being friendly, to which the older woman agreed to disagree; _“I don’t need to fake nice to get what I want.”._ Macarena rolled her eyes. Zulema sits down in her bed taking out her combat boots and lighting up a cigarette, watching as Macarena took out her flannel shirt and threw it on the bed.

“Want to hear something funny?” Macarena asks, taking a sip straight from the bottle in her hands and closing her eyes as she felt the alcohol go down her throat warming her body.

“What? That I’m wrong and you’re right?” Zulema teases.

“Well, that wouldn’t be funny it would just be the truth. But that’s not what I meant.”

Zulema signs with her head for the blonde to continue.

“We just went on our first date.”

Zulema is taken aback by the statement. She doesn’t know if it’s because of the fact that they actually did had a dinner date for the first time – they would very much go out drinking more than they did go out to eat, let alone go to a restaurant just the two of them to have some small talk by a candle-lit table – or if it was Macarena recognizing it as such. It all felt... off. But in a particularly good way. Maybe this is what a change of air feels like.

Zulema chuckles. “ _Joder_ … we did. Don’t get used to it though.”

“Did you enjoy it? Me taking you out.” Macarena asks arching her brow.

“Oh, _you_ took me out huh?”

The blonde sits by Zulema’s side on the bed, stealing her cigarette from her hand. “ _Si._ ”

“Will you ever stop stealing my cigs?”

Macarena takes a drag, blowing out the smoke and smirking. “ _No_. And you didn’t answer my question.”

Zulema reaches out for the bottle of wine on Maca’s other hand, grabbing it for herself and taking a swing out of it while Macarena leaned back on her elbows. Zulema gives in, letting out an exhale and rolling her eyes.

“It was nice.” Nice was an understatement. Nice didn’t even begin to cover what she was feeling, but it was what she allowed herself to say. The truth is that she felt on fucking cloud 9 ever since they arrived in Hotel Oasis, and she knows that this is not only because of the paradisiac atmosphere. She can’t say that, though.

“I liked it too.” Macarena answers, taking out the last drag from the cigarette on her hand and getting up from the bed to put the cigarette butt out on the ashtray near her bedside table, when an idea hits her. Maca plugs her phone on the charger and presses play on a song, that sounded through its speakers.

The chords were familiar to the scorpion – she certainly has heard it once or twice when Macarena would put on her songs to play on the van. The blonde closed her eyes, swinging her body to the beat of the song and making her way back to Zulema’s front. Zulema quietly observes, looking Macarena’s body down and up until it reached her eyes, that open just seconds after dark green ones come to expect it.

“Dance with me.”

Zulema chuckles, taking another sip of the wine bottle. “No. I’m not _that_ drunk.”

Macarena shakes her head at Zulema’s resistance, swinging her hips to the beat while keeping eye contact with the brunette on bed.

“I’ll dance alone then. And since I’m a nice person, I’ll let you watch.” She smirks. Zulema chuckles, leaning back on her elbows as Macarena takes out her own shoes.

“Yeah, I’ve seen that movie before.”

_Morena mía Siete son los pecados cometidos Suman ocho conmigo Nueve los que te cobro Más de diez he sentido_

Macarena slowly dances closer to Zulema’s body, not breaking eye contact. When her legs touch another pair by the edge of the bed, she leans in with both arms supporting her on the bed, inches apart from Zulema’s face, whose eyes darkened by the minute.

“Did you like the ending?” Macarena whispers, taking the bottle from Zulema’s hand and drinking the rest of wine that was still left and resting the bottle by the ground next to the bed.

_Morena agata, y me mata, me mata y me remata Vamos pal infierno, aunque no sea eterno_

Zulema chuckles, biting her lip and shaking her head. Macarena took that as enough of an answer, getting up from her place and turning her back to Zulema. Macarena brought her hands from her thighs to her waist, sliding it through her figure while she contoured it with her gestures and her hips swung with the song, like they both spoke the same language amongst themselves. Zulema watched hypnotized. Macarena was _too fucking much._

The blonde finally turns back around, walking to the bed and pulling Zulema’s hips closer to the edge with the help of the brunette. Zulema straightens up her torso, seeing how Macarena once again turns her back to her front and slowly lowers her ass until she’s sitting on Zulema’s lap. Almost by second nature, the scorpion’s hand shoots up to touch the blonde’s body, but Macarena grabs both and presses them down on the sheets on either side of their bodies, holding them there with her grip.

“I didn’t say you could touch.”

Too. Fucking. Much.

Macarena starts rolling her hips against Zulema’s lap, leaning her back to press on Zulema’s front. Hard, rock, steady, rock… The blonde’s smell from her hair intoxicated the brunette slowly, as she makes sure to bury her face deeper onto blonde curls until she was breathing against Maca’s neck. The blonde slowly leans her head to the side to make space for Zulema, who slid her tongue up her pulse point and ending with a gentle bite on Macarena’s lobe, and the blonde’s hands tighten around Zulema’s own pressed against the bed.

_Pero cuando tu boca, me toca, me pone, me provoca Me muerde y me destroza Toda siempre es poca y muévete bien, bien, bien Que nadie como tú me sabe hacer café_

“Maca...” Zulema whispers, trying to free her hands.

“You’re not in control, Zulema.” Macarena says with a low voice. Their bodies melt together to the rhythm of the song, seeking each other like opposites of a magnet. Maca is not even sure if she is in control either – surely the alcohol had its part in helping her cease the nerves, but she felt drunk off of something else. She was letting her impulse speak and it kept screaming for her to jump. To stay on free fall. To just let go.

She flashes back to their first time.

Often more, life puts you a crossway between running away from someone or staying forever. Macarena took the exit her entire life. She tried to drive it by following a map, but life is not a freeway. There are no right or wrong turns – there are the ones you take, and the ones you don’t. 

And to each time she chose to keep going forwards, life started to become more and more clear. Not clear in the meaning of having it all figured out – hell, quite the opposite. The more she kept going, the more she lost herself. And only because of that, she stared finding new pieces along the way.

And only by allowing her to lose herself, she could finally get to know Macarena. The one that has no map. The one that has no answers. The one that allowed herself to live not by the laws of what should be right or wrong, but by what _she_ thought was the right thing for her.

And that’s what she was doing.

Jumping off a cliff, with no guarantees of what was below it. But it didn’t matter. She was done silencing off those impulses. Another song comes up next, slower this time and shifting off the energy in the room.

This was it. The moment she crosses the line and ends the battle against herself. Certainly not the last fight, but the first of many.

Macarena gets out of bed, letting go of Zulema’s grip to stand face to face with her, maintaining eye contact as she unbuttons her jeans letting them slide down her legs and ending with it getting kicked out off her feet. Next came her tank top, sliding up more and more, every new inch of skin exposed getting devoured by Zulema’s passionate and fiery gaze. Maca’s hips swinged as her shirt slid upwards until her hands were up in the air removing the piece of clothing and revealing Maca’s bare tits, and with a bite of her lips, she kneels down on the ground between Zulema’s legs.

Her hands shoot up to the belt securing the black cargo pants, and with a click and a pull, they were out of Zulema and into Macarena’s hands and finally on the ground adding up to the pile of discarded garments. Maca’s hands slide to Zulema’s button and zipper, opening the pants and pulling them downwards with the help of the scorpion herself. Her hands slide up from calves to the inside of her knees, coming back to the front and sliding the rest of the way up Zulema’s thighs until she reached fabric again. The brunette’s skin shivered with the shocking intensity of a tender touch, seeking the blonde’s eyes that found her own.

Macarena gets up, sitting back on Zulema’s lap with her knees on the bed and faces mere inches away. Their breaths mingle together as their noses brush and bare thigh meets bare tight. Their skin felt hot against each other, smooth and soft and absolutely maddening. Zulema’s hands slide up Macarena’s torso, gripping her waist firmly, craving more. The blonde brings her own to the end of Zulema’s shirt, gripping it and pulling it upwards a little.

“Take it off.” Macarena says, mouth so close to Zulema’s she could swear she could taste it. Zulema’s eyes immediately flash with uncertainty – it wasn’t just a shirt, just like it wasn’t just a simple request. The fabric was an unspoken rule, a line drawn, and a distance set put. Taking it off would be crossing the line, leaving Zulema naked – physically and emotionally.

Macarena’s answer doesn’t come in the form of words, those were never their strength anyways. It comes, however, by crossing a line for her own. Maca starts leaning in, slow enough so that Zulema understands what’s going to happen but fast enough so she wouldn’t lose her 10 seconds of blind courage.

“Rubi…” The words barely manage to leave Zulema’s mouth as the air gets stuck in her lungs and her eyes flicker between hazel green eyes and pink lips. _What are you doing?_ Zulema’s gaze desperately asked, to which hazel orbs replied _I’m not running away._

Zulema is tired of running away too.

So it happens. In the millisecond that shifts everything Macarena’s lips touch Zulema’s, and it felt like a goddamn supernova. All atoms bursting in a a final effort of energy, letting all of the old energy of the old cicle explode and expand burning with brightness everything that it touched. They both stay frozen on the spot for a couple of seconds processing what just happened, until Macarena properly kisses Zulema. Lips, tongue, open-mouthed, slow but intense and fucking breath-taking. It felt like drinking a tall glass of water after being thirsty for an entire lifetime. Zulema’s hands gripped Macarena’s back pulling her towards her own body, and Macarena tangles her fingers on dark locks like earlier before.

Macarena breaks the kiss reluctantly, heavy breathing and letting go of Zulema’s hair so she could try and take Zulema’s shirt once again. “I want to feel you.” She speaks against Zulema’s mouth. The scorpion looks deep into Maca’s eyes, and she knows she never stood a chance fighting against this feeling. It was terrifying but in the most refreshing way.

Zulema brings her hands to her blouse and pulls it over her head herself, unclasping her bra right after. Below the fabric and below the armor, there stood the scorpion in surrender. Macarena brushes her hand through Zulema’s breasts and down her stomach, srnding chills as she went on and coming back up the same path and stopping at Zulema’s shoulders.

“You’re stunning.” She says looking at Zulema’s body, and she wanted to touch every single inch and know every single scar. Macarena brings their mouths back in an intense kiss, bodies glued to one another, breasts meeting and hips bucking. Zulema and Macarena kept pulling each other impossibly closer, grabbing, scratching and not wanting to miss a single second of this entire new feeling which was their bodies meeting each other for the first time sharing heat, sweat, electricity. They could feel the effect they had on each other on every cell of their body, arousal growing by each minute with pulse, craving attention.

Macarena brings her kisses to Zulema, jaw, earlobe, pulse point and clavicle until she uses her body weight to push Zulema’s torso against the bed. They both come upwards on the mattress until their bodies were entirely on the bed, Zulema laying on her back as Macarena straddled her. She lowered herself to keep kissing the brunette’s body, sucking on the woman’s nipples and giving them all the attention with her tongue while Zulema gripped blonde locks holding her there.

Her kisses travel south tasting and licking and kissing every inch of skin Macarena could find, until she reached Zulema’s underwear, the final piece yet to be removed. Macarena looks up for a silent permission, which is granted to her by a heavy breath and Zulema throwing her head back on her sheets. She pulls them off slowly, down her legs and gone. Macarena makes sure to take hers down right after, leaving both of them completely naked.

Maca opens Zulema’ legs wider, positioning herself in between them as she brings her mouth to Zulema’s pussy licking her honey and tasting the scorpion’s desire for her. Zulema moaned – deep, throaty and loud – as she felt the feeling of Maca’s warm tongue come in contact with her clit, circling and sucking and just making her go completely mad. Zulema was addicted to Macarena’s mouth, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

Macarena, however, has other plans. Once she made sure to tease and arouse both of them significantly more, she stops the work with her mouth and straightens up her torso back again.

“ _Joder Maca_ —” Macarena stops Zulema’s frustrations from the loss of contact with a single word.

“ _Juntas._ ”

Macarena adjusts her body in between the space of Zulema’s open legs, lifting the woman’s right leg so it can pass on top of her own.

_Oh._

Macarena closes the distance between them and both women moan at the same time, feeling how their pussies slide against each other in first contact.

“Fuck…”

Macarena assumes the commanding position, adjusting the fit to an even more perfect one as she grinded her hips against Zulema and their wetness mingled together as one. Zulema gripped the sheets below her until her knuckles turned white, chest rising and falling intensely as her eyes couldn’t hold themselves open for longer from the sensory overload.

On the moments their gaze met, however, they felt like they couldn’t even blink. They would lost on each other’s eyes and it all felt _so fucking good_ that they momentarily doubted if this was even real. Macarena keeps grinding Zulema’s pussy like her life depended on it, and to both of them at that exact moment, it really felt like it did.

“I-I’m close…” Zulema says, biting her lip and gripping her own tits as Macarena moaned her name in the most unholy way and the brunette was sure she never wanted to be holy ever again.

“ _Yo tambiém_ ” Macarena moans, continuing the movements of her hips as she leaned backwards standing on their forearms, head thrown back and breasts up in the air as they danced the final chorus of their dance and climax started to built on the pit of their stomachs.

Up, and up, and up… until both of them reach the maximum pit. And after the few seconds of anticipation, Zulema and Macarena allow themselves to free fall onto the abyss of their orgasm as waves of pleasure wouldn’t stop crashing over them. Macarena and Zulema both moaned in unison, completely lost in the feeling and on their own personal little death.

They both keep riding each other’s orgasms out, feeling as their bodies finally calmed and their muscles finally grew tired. Zulema pulls Macarena down collapsing on the bed, Macarena partially on top of Zulema’s right side and her head laid on Zulema’s chest.

They stay still in this position for some time, feeling their breathing slowly calm down and their sweat mingle together, processing everything that just happened. Macarena is the first one to break the trance, supporting her head on her elbow as she admired Zulema’s face, who turns to the side to watch Maca’s as well.

Macarena brings her free hand to brush away a strand of hair from Zulema’s sweaty face, and she can’t help but lean in to kiss her once again, slower and calmer this time, enjoying the feel of each other.

“Zule… how in the hell did we get here?” Macarena whispers against the kiss.

“ _No tengo ni puta idea._ ” Zulema answers, and they both can’t help but break their kiss to laugh at the insanity of it all.

“We can figure it out.” Zulema says as her laugh sobers up, her eyes filled with questions with no answers but an invitation to share them with Maca. She smiles.

“Yeah, we can.”

“And we can always go back to trying to kill each other too.”

Macarena laughs with her chest, looking at Zulema’s stupid grin and rolling her eyes. She pins Zulema on the mattress, straddling her hips once again and holding both Zulema’s hands above her head.

“I’d like to see you try. Try not to smother yourself on the pillow feathers while you’re at it.”

Zulema abruptly flips them on the bed, mirroring Macarena’s previous position and pressing her knee against Macarena’s center, taking her by surprise which is met by a gasped moan and a buck of her hips.

It surely will be a long night.

* * *

Ama removes her headphones, putting them on her lap. She spins her chair the opposite way of the fake mirror, taking a break from everything she just saw as she gets up and stretches her legs. She paces around the dark circular room, processing all the information.

_This changes everything._

She wants Macarena to suffer from the same pain she put her through. She wants her to face the consequences of her actions. But hurting her is not the way to do it.

She had to pay back in the same currency. A tooth for a tooth, and a nail for a nail. She takes out her phone from her pocket, dialing her last called number.

“ _Hijo_ , abort mission. Stand down, we have a change of plans.” Ama walks to the direction of the whiteboard standing in the corner of the room, splattered with information about Zulema and Macarena and newspaper cut outs of their headlines during this past year. She picks up a red pilot marker, gluing down a post it on Zulema’s Cruz del Sur registry picture and writing down in the small piece of paper.

“Well, not change of plans. A change of target.”

She wants Macarena to lose someone she loves too, just like she lost Sandoval.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m @sapphiczule on twitter if you wanna come and say hi!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @sapphiczule on twitter if you wanna come and say hi! :)


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